Untitled

While i'm planning surprises

she´s having a smoke
i keep some of her ashes myself
and keep finding hair and mints
all over the place.

Toasts and coke,
fall asleep in the park
the cold long walk
and the wind blowing
chilling hands, the whitest
pocket full, gloves off

Uncertain shores,
sky of grey
lips of red,
pale lips and golden eyes

Maybe i'm again
maybe i'm still
i guess i could scream
or just tell
but i won't stand the silence,
or the stare...